


Plausible Deniability

by Spoon888



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Aliens Made Them Do It, Aphrodisiacs, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Optimus Ignores Megatron's Perfectly Sensible Advice, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Voyeurism, or so they claim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-27 05:44:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20402650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoon888/pseuds/Spoon888
Summary: Megatron and Optimus are captured by a group of alien scientists far too interested in the reproductive process of other species for either of their liking.Megatron is filled with enough healthy paranoia to know not to drink anything the aliens give them. Optimus... has somewhat less experience in this area.But in his defence, he was thirsty.





	Plausible Deniability

**Author's Note:**

> This is a big thank you fic for someone who supported me recently. You know who you are!! 
> 
> God I've missed writing this pairing.

Megatron's optics were focused in opposite directions when he onlined them. They flickered to reset and brought clarity to the mirrored ceiling above him, where he could frown at his frame's reflection in it, prone across a basic metal slab, limbs splayed awkwardly like someone hadn't quite had the strength to lift him properly.

He was in unfamiliar territory. Defensive programming came online.

The room he'd woken in was completely void of colour, silver and chrome, mirrored glass reflecting back dull metals. So when a patch of colour in Megatron's peripheral shifted, he snapped his head in it's direction.

Optimus Prime was stood like a red, white, and blue pillar at his side, fists clenched and optics alight with electric blue _fire_, every panel and gear of his great armoured frame tensed in anticipation.

There was a pause, just enough time to blink, but not long enough to think.

Megatron roared and surged up. Prime was in a far better position and swung a punch. Blue knuckles slammed into Megatron's jaw with force enough to take a lesser being's head off. Megatron moved with the blow and rolled his entire body off the other end of the metal slab, getting his pedes under him and placing it between him and his enemy.

Prime stepped onto the slab with one pede and kicked up with the other. Megatron caught the foot as it came for his chest and twisted until Prime grunted and something under his hands gave way. He tugged. Unbalanced on one foot, Prime fell to the slab, landing on his back strut, spin slamming into the slab's harsh edge. Optics flared with pain, but his other foot came up and planted itself, heel first, into Megatron's codpiece.

Megatron doubled over and stumbled back, the pain enough to send nausea shooting through his chassis. He struggled to straighten when Prime rose and came at him with a bellow. He caught blue fists with his own, fingers intertwining and locking as they pushed and pulled until pedes tripped over themselves and sent them tumbling.

Megatron cursed when he fell backwards, slamming against the metal decking with Prime pinning his wrists above his head. He snarled and snapped his denta inches from Prime's battle-mask.

"Where are we?" Prime demanded.

Which was _rich_ when Megatron had only just woken up!

He kicked his legs, struggling against Prime's damnably effective pin, trying to get a knee between himself and his assailant. "I could ask you the same, Prime!"

Prime's optics brightened with confusion, and Megatron seized the opportunity to snap his head forwards and slam his helmeted forehead against Prime's battle-mask. His processor rattled about in his head and he probably came off much worse, but it was the distraction he needed. He yanked a wrist free and punched Prime in the throat with a vindictive laugh.

"Aha!"

He kicked the Autobot off him and worked quickly to reverse their positions, straddling the downed Prime's hips and drawing a fist back to slam it down with deadly force into chest beneath him.

A click and hiss above distracted him.

Prime's optics widened, and Megatron was stupid enough to look up. The vents dotted around the mirrored ceiling had begun to spew some sort of gas.

"What the-?"

The gas was quick working, and Megatron had tilted his head back to inhale a nice deep intake full of it. It was tasteless, odourless. But within seconds his limbs became too heavy, his head too heavy, his tongue too numb to form vowels.

He half mumbled a curse as he swayed, optics rolling into the back of his head as he began to fall forwards.

His fall was cushioned. He heard Prime grunt as he landed on top of him, but after that, the gas destroyed what little conciousness he had left...

* * *

  
"They don't appear compatible." The research assistant scratched their head with a long spindly limb as they observed the two... (they checked their notes) ...Cybertronians collapse into a pile of armour. Thankfully before killing one another.

"Impossible." The lead scientist snorted, "You see their colouring?" They tapped the glass on their side of the two way mirror. "The brighter markings? I guarantee that's the dominant specimen."

"The grey one attacked first?"

"You should broaden your reading on mating rituals. It obviously wants the other to prove itself a capable mate." The scientist nodded with self assured confidence. "Clean up the mess and offer them a little incentive. See if they can be reasoned with. There's some evidence to suggest they're an intelligent species."

The research assistant nodded, but from the way they had just witnessed the specimens attacking one another, wasn't sure 'reason' would have much part to play in this.

* * *

"Be at peace. You are not in danger."

Optimus was awake, but he could not move. Either the gas had paralytic aftereffects or Megatron's twenty tonne frame falling on top of him had destroyed some vital hardware.

When he onlined his optics he was looking up into the angular, pincered face of some sort of large insectoid alien; six legs, antennas, and a hundred ink black eyes staring down at him.

"And who are you?" He asked carefully, eyeing the other insects skittering around. He was still in the mirrored room, and though he had checked the room earlier and found nothing (before Megatron had risen and tried to kill him that is) there had to be an entrance in and out, a door to escape through, if these beings had access to them.

"Researchers." The insect responded. "From a far galaxy. You and your friend fell into our trap."

Friend? They must mean Megatron. Optimus tried to recall what had happened. They were grappling on a bridge, had fallen into the abyss below...

"And what do you plan to do with us?"

One hundred eyes blinked out of time. He could see his own reflection in their dark depths.

"We believe in none-invasive methods." The insect reassured, clicking it's pincers rapidly. It made a sound not dissimilar to laughter. "There is nothing to fear. We hope to complete our research quickly so we can release you back into your natural habitat with minimal distress."

Optimus frowned behind his mask. He could feel some sensation returning to his fingers, but the insects were likely to be gone by the time he could make a fist and throw a punch. "We are _not_ animals."

"You are Cybertronians." It agreed. "And you greatly interest us. We were hoping you might cooperate with our work and be willing to complete your mating ritual with your companion."

"I-" Optimus's vocaliser caught, shock plugging the relays. He lay there on the slab, mouthing at her in silence.

"_Sorry_?" He said, when he did finally regain the ability to speak.

"We will release you when we have completed our research." The insect reaffirmed.

"And your, your research is to force us-?"

"Not force." The pincers clicked again. "But certainly motivate, if necessary. We have been looking to study your kind for a great many years. My superiors will be reluctant to release you unless sufficient data has been collected."

Optimus suddenly became concerned for where Megatron had gone. "Where is- where is the other mech?" He demanded.

The insect used it's long spindling limbs to tilt his head back for him, until Megatron's upside-down reflection appeared in the mirrored ceiling above him. He was unconscious still, but from what Optimus could tell, unmolested. His fuel pump slowed in relief.

"When will he wake?"

"When we give him the antidote." The insect clacked it's pincers at one of it's fellows, and it approached Megatron with a vial of green substance at it's order. "Are you willing to cooperate?"

"No!" Optimus snapped, watching as Megatron's head was tipped back and the vial was carefully poured into his mouth. "We are not here for your entertainment, scientific or not. You will release us both."

The insect tilted it's head and looked aside. "I see."

"So you will let us go?"

"It is not within my authority to release test subjects." The insect said sadly, and Optimus detected a hint of genuine sympathy in it's voice. "I will have to speak with my superiors. In the mean time," with a clack of it's pincers, another colleague came skittering over, this one carrying a tray between two of it's front legs. It held two glowing energon cubes.

"You _have_ researched our species." Optimus murmured, reluctantly impressed.

"Please, fuel and rest, and we can come to a peaceful arrangement after I have spoken with my superiors."

Optimus would also rather they find a peaceful solution to this misunderstanding, one that preferably didn't involve him being intimate with Megatron in a kidnapping situation. He nodded his acceptance, his limbs starting to respond better.

The insect seemed apprehensively pleased. Optimus shared the feeling, watching from the slab as the aliens began to file out and left him alone, once again, with a groaning Megatron.

Optimus willed his hands to respond, knowing he needed to be in control of his motor functions before Megatron if he wanted to survive the Decepticons next attack on his life.

* * *

Prime had been busy playing detective whilst Megatron had been unconscious, it seemed.

"They want us to _what_?!" He snarled, shoving the Prime away when the Autobot reached to help haul him off the floor where he'd been left by the aliens. They hadn't agreed on a truce, per se, but they could certainly agree they shared a common enemy in this.

"You heard what I said the first time." Prime grumbled, and out of petty revenge for the shove, stuck a leg out and tripped Megatron's still unbalanced frame. Megatron stumbled with a curse but caught himself against a table set up beside the wide metal slab, rattling full energon cubes set out on a tray.

His optics focused on them. "What is this?" He growled, lifting one to sniff at.

"It's energon." Prime sounded exhausted.

"From them?"

"Obviously." Prime muttered.

Megatron couldn't detect any poisons or intoxicants from olfactory senses alone, but it was better to be safe than sorry. He slammed it back down. "Don't drink them."

"It's energon." Prime muttered, flopping down on the slab.

"And I said don't drink them."

Prime didn't like his tone. He pushed himself up onto his forearms, optics narrowed into slits above his face-mask. "You don't hold a command over _me_, Megatron." He warned.

Megatron sneered, pushing the tray away so the energon sloshed over the sides of the cubes and spilled. "Fine, poison yourself."

He left Prime to do _nothing_ on the slab and began to check the room, running his hands along the steel wall paneling and the mirrors, knocking to check for hollow spots, looking for hidden seams or latches, something that could imply the existence of a doorway. He placed a hand against the largest mirror on the left wall, and his optics narrowed at the gap in the glass between his hand and the reflection of it. An indication of a one-way mirror.

"They're watching us." He warned, turning to Prime again. "They- _Prime_!"

Prime was in the act of stubbornly disregarding his warning in drinking the suspect cube. Megatron crossed the room with three quick strides and smacked the cube from his grasp. It smashed when it hit the floor, spilling bright energon and twinkling glass in a long splatter.

Prime grabbed his wrist, grip more than just reproachfully tight. "That was unnecessary." He growled, rumbling vocaliser rattling Megatron's armour.

"I told you not to drink it!" Megatron snarled shoving Prime's shoulder.

"You're _insane_. You're paranoid!"

"Of course I'm paranoid, we're captives?! Or did you think you'd made friends with them?" Megatron shoved his shoulder again. "But of course, that's what you _do_ isn't it?! Cruise the galaxy, befriending lesser lifeforms?"

Prime released his wrist and sent him stumbling back with an open palmed slap to the chest. Megatron came back with the determined frown of a mech ready to start another fight, but Prime rolled off the side of the slab to put it between them, just as Megatron had done during their earlier scrap.

"I would suggest," he began coldly, "that you remain on your side of the room, and I on mine."

Megatron immediately took the slab, spreading himself across it greedily. "Then the side with the terrible berth is _my_ side."

Prime's optic twitched, and Megatron took great joy in watching him slink off to the other side of the room. "When you're ready to cooperate with me on finding a solution to this mess-" Prime began.

"-My solution would be not to trust them like a blind idiot, and to kill them the next time they enter this room."

Prime didn't appear to share with that philosophy. He let his back thunk against the wall and slid down it until he was sat in the floor, one leg straight, the other drawn up to his chest so he could prop his chin up on it.

Megatron glared up at the mirrored ceiling, wondering how many cameras were hidden behind it. He lifted his hand and made a rude gesture, hoping they'd at least researched his species enough to know what it meant. Perverts.

They sat in silence for some time, and when Prime failed to collapse into a heap and _die_ after consuming the gifted energon, Megatron wondered if he was perhaps a bit too paranoid. The result of sharing a warship with Starscream for so many years. The only reason he still functioned at all was because he never drank fuel he hadn't filtered and poured himself.

He was just considering how best to swallow his pride and restart a civil dialogue with Prime on how to work together on this situation, when a scraping noise drew his attention.

Prime was shifting about on the floor, looking decidedly uncomfortable.

If that was a hint for Megatron to give up the slab he'd be sorely disappointed.

Megatron went back to ignoring him -until Prime cleared his vocaliser, breath laboured, and shifted again.

"What?" Megatron snapped, annoyed at the disturbances.

"Nothing." Prime's tone sounded strained, like an invisible hand was squeezing around his throat. His optics kept offlining and clenching shut. He tilted his head back and banged it lightly against the wall behind him in frustration, the hand braced against his knee fisting and releasing rapidly.

Something had to be very wrong for Prime to lose his composure.

Megatron inched away for him, feeling both vindicated and frustrated.

"I told you not to drink that damn cube!" He bellowed, and he wasn't as happy about Prime's potential poisoning as he would have hoped to be. Of all the things to fell his great enemy, a tampered cube of energon? He might as well have let Starscream off him.

"Are you dying?" He asked more solemnly.

Prime gasped an hysterical laugh, swaying forwards. "No," his optics brightened. "It's not- it's not life-threatening. I'll be fine."

Oh, of course he would. Megatron rolled his optics at the hitching breaths and strained vocaliser. Saint Prime, the martyr.

Then he heard the distinct sound of cooling fans click and buzz online from across the room, and realised, mortifyingly, just what sort of discomfort the Prime was suffering through. He shouldn't have been surprised. The aliens didn't want to kill them after all. They wanted them to frag.

"Idiot," Megatron muttered, avoiding Prime's gaze and ignoring a sudden flush of heat at the thought of his enemy in such a predicament. He refocused on the ceiling, keeping his optics locked with their own reflection. It was difficult not to sneak peaks at Prime though, sighing and groaning with his head thrown back, jaw ticking, armour flexing...

Megatron's cooling fans ticked on. He bit back a curse.

"Megatron?"

Oh, he couldn't _possibly_ have heard that over his own fans?!

"What?" he snapped, throwing open vents to push the heat out, trying to send his processor down routes of thought that didn't involved a hot and bothered Prime on the floor. Beneath him. Cheek plating flushed and optics hooded.

His tank clenched. The paneling between his hips felt tight.

No, he did _not_ harbour intimate desires for Optimus fragging Prime! This was more than just the byproduct of his own overactive imagination. Like Prime, he'd been drugged.

He glanced at the energon cube lingering on the side table, untouched. He hadn't consumed anything. He hadn't-

He sat up, optics wide and alarmed. "The gas?!"

Prime was sat with his thighs pressed tight together, his optics pale with arousal. He shook his head. "They gave us something to bring us back around." He shuttered his optics. "Little green vial. I didn't think- but it must have..."

He trailed off, but Megatron understood.

He nodded in acceptance -since there wasn't much he could do to change things now- and reached back to pick up his cube.

He might as well clench his thirst as well.

* * *

"I'm sure it'll pass." Prime said, having somehow found his way up onto the slab with Megatron. They were laying side-by-side on their backs, staring at it each other's reflection in the ceiling.

Their proximity to one another was doing little to help things on Megatron's end of things. The Prime was radiating heat through vents on his chassis, and in the still air of the room it seemed to waft and linger over Megatron's own struggling frame. His elbow was poised, ready to shunt Prime off the slab and back to the floor where his miserable Autobot aft belonged, but despite the torture of his close presence, the inclination just wasn't there.

Prime had his arms stretched out overhead, long limbs he could spread across the breadth of the hard metal slab. One lay limp just above Megatron's own helm. Prime sighed, and Megatron watched that arm move, coming down. He stiffened in fear of it falling across his shoulders in some attempt at a juvenile Pick Up move, but Prime only lifted his arms and dropped them to his front instead, his elbow brushing Megatron's.

Megatron grunted.

Prime made a noise like a grunt back.

They stared at each over in the ceiling.

Megatron's panels ached something _unbearable_.

"This is ridiculous!" He snapped, still speaking to Prime via the ceiling. "It's not passing. It's not going anywhere."

"It's only been ten minutes." Prime huffed.

Impossible. It had to have been longer. Megatron pressed his thighs tighter and rolled his hips against nothing, fighting back a whine at the lack of friction. His valve cycled down, miserably empty.

"They did this deliberately." Prime murmured, cool blue optics locked on Megatron's frame, watching the way he twitched and shifted.

Megatron felt another surge of ire rise. "Oh _well done_, Prime. You've figured out their master plan. They drugged us in the hopes we'd clang one another."

Prime frowned. "Don't say it like that." He reprimanded.

Megatron turned his head to stare at him incredulously, "I apologise." He sneered. "What term would you prefer?"

"I'd prefer you didn't mention it."

"It's a rather large electro-elephant in the room-"

"What do you want me to do, Megatron?!" Prime snapped upright, glaring down at Megatron's prone form. "Do you want me to 'clang' you? Get it out of our systems and give them what they want?"

Megatron bit his glossa and resolutely continued glaring at his own reflection above, stifling a wince as Prime's deep, angry voice made his array throb. "Stuff it up your exhaust, Prime."

Prime's glare softened at his wince. His optics tracked down his frame. "If you're in pain-"

"_If_?!"

"You're not making this any easier."

"I don't want to make this _easy_." Megatron rose onto one elbow and jabbed Prime in the chest between his windshields. "Do _you_ want this to be easy? Do you want me to lie back and think of Cybertron?"

Prime made a noise caught somewhere between frustration and disgust, rising off the slab. Megatron caught his wrist. "Oh no you don't-"

He yanked, but Prime came back ready with a fist. Megatron braced himself for a punch but Prime grabbed a handful of chest armour instead, hooking thick fingers into an armour seam and hauling him forward so they were nose to battle-mask. Prime's optics were electric, alight.

"You're a coward." Megatron leaned in that last inch to hiss, his lips brushing the warm mask.

Prime shook him hard by the chest plating, but it only brought a smirk to Megatron's mouth. How easily he could read the Prime's expressions behind that mask.

"I will not be provoked." He rumbled in that high and mighty voice of his, so noble and moral, like he wasn't leaning over Megatron with a searing, throbbing codpiece, like he wasn't half a second and one bad decision away from pinning his enemy and clanging him senseless.

Megatron's smirk widened, his array alight, raging with want. A want to be claimed, a want for release, and a want for _Optimus_\- the one thing that had nothing to do with whatever alien aphrodisiac was rushing through their fuel lines.

He curled a hand around the wrist attached to the hand Optimus had a death grip on him with, his thumb brushing over the inner wrist and sliding over Optimus's palm, until slowly, the grip began to loosen.

Optimus's fiery optics cooled until they were pale ice, cold and fearful. He shook his head. "You can't honestly say we would do something like this if we were full control of our facilities."

"Of course not;" Megatron scoffed, hiding his own long held desires in check behind a cocky, sure disposition. "But as you said, we can't be held responsible for our actions."

Optimus climbed back into the slab, one knee at a time, urging Megatron back as he climbed over him. "They're watching us."

Megatron's optics flicked towards the mirrored ceiling. He could still see himself over Optimus's wide shoulders, his limbs splayed wantonly, optics dim with lust. "Then we'd better make it good, hadn't we? We're representing the species, remember?"

A spark of life returned to Optimus's optics them. They crinkled at the corners in amusement, "Yes, I suppose we are."

* * *

It wasn't at all necessary to kiss, but Megatron scratched and pushed at Optimus's battle-mask until the Autobot relented. If they were doing this, he wanted the full experience, and he wanted Optimus to have the decency to bare himself -all of himself- as Megatron himself was doing.

Lips came together in the same breath their frame's did, and the weight of Optimus was the perfect accompaniment to the drag of his tongue across Megatron's bottom lip. Megatron opened his mouth, begging for that tongue and groaning when he got it. It twisted with his own, licked all in his mouth, filling the near soundless room with the smack of their wet lips and their soft gasps for breath.

Their spikes were marble stiff and so sensitive to touch every brush against one another's armour stung. Megatron hissed through his teeth when the tip of his grazed Optimus's belly. They lay chest to chest, pelvis to pelvis, of a size enough with one another that the press and rock of their hips as they kissed trapped their spikes together. Optimus's was leaking, and Megatron could feel the hot trails of pre-fluid he was leaving across his black pelvic armour and on his own spike. His valve clenched, and he drew a leg out from under Optimus, wanting that spike to grind a little lower, find the heat and wetness of his valve.

See if Optimus could really handle him.

He bent his leg, and Optimus's thigh fell between his own. The kiss broke with a deep, pleased rumble as the solid, thick thigh pressed up against his valve. Megatron rocked down onto it, smirking again at the way Optimus shuttered his optics, overcome with desire.

"You're wet."

"Wonderful observational skills, Prime." He sneered, drawing his other leg out so Prime was firmly situated between his legs now, his thighs open and flat to the berth to accommodate him. "Try not to overload before you get inside me."

Optimus's optics snapped back online with a definite spark to them. "You're not in any position to be teasing me." Optimus rolled his hips forward and ground the stiff rod of his spike against Megatron's again. "I suppose it wouldn't be polite to keep you waiting much longer."

With that, he pressed his palms flat to the slab, worked his hips down, found Megatron's sopping wet entrance, and sunk his length into him.

"Oh Primus, yes!" Megatron near cracked his helmet open on the slab when he threw his head back in rapture, pleasure zapping through his tampered frame. Optimus snarled at his valve's instinctive clench, but didn't stop, rising into his knees and lifting Megatron's legs under the knee joints to push them up and back, curving his lower back.

Megatron gripped his spike and began to stroke the aching metal, optics rolling about in his helm too much for him to keep them online. Optimus was being mean about it, thrusts plunging and fast. The harsh grunts that accompanied every jab forwards only made Megatron wetter, made his valve clench tighter.

He winked one optic online, trying to focus it. Prime met his gaze, and with a smirk, rolled his hips. Megatron's fist tightening on his spike threw him into an overload. His spike spilled hot bursts of transfluid across his stomach and chest, where it stood out starkly against his grey armour.

Optimus paused in clanging him to lean down. Megatron thought he was getting another kiss and craned his neck for it, but Optimus changed direction at the last second, smirking and ducking his head to lick up Megatron's chassis instead, tongue sweeping through the tracks of transfluid.

"Ca-call yourself a Prime?" Megatron shook, sure if he hadn't been so wrung out he would have overloaded all over again at the simple sight of Optimus savouring before swallowing.

Optimus dropped over him so they were optic to optic again, planting hands either side of his head and using his thighs and hips alone to press his spike deeper inside him. Megatron locked his legs around Prime's waist, thighs tight enough to crush a lesser being. Prime endured, pumping his hips and suckling Megatron's throat cabling as if the tightening tension in the thighs around his waist -as another overload began to blossom in Megatron- didn't bother him.

"Optimus." He breathed, feeling too vulnerable, turning his head away from the mouth searching for his. He was sensitive and aching. "Optimus, please, I'm going to -"

Optimus pumped his hips faster, staring down at him expectantly, watching every twitch and wince in his expression as he was pushed into a second overload that left his vents hitching and him clinging to Optimus. He tried to hide his face in the Prime's neck but Optimus grabbed the back of his head and pulled it back so he could watch his optics water, his mouth gasp.

"I've got you." Optimus's deep comforting voice told him, and in contrast to that his thrusts became faster, _sharper_ as he chased his own overload. He mouthed at the side of Megatron's helmet, breathing against his audial. "I've got you."

Megatron's last overload blew through him with the force of his fusion canon going off, the blow back enough to stun him, his frame locking tight to hold onto the first intense pulse of it. Above him Optimus's own overload hit him. Megatron felt it's tremors run through Optimus's frame until it erupted out of his spike in pulses, painting Megatron's internals.

Optimus rocked thrice more into Megatron's frame, gentle, savouring. And then it was done.

Megatron's thighs fell to the slab and Optimus fell to him. He grunted, bringing his arms around Optimus's middle to hold him.

Another pair of strong arms sipped under his frame, embracing him back. The pressing ache of the aphrodisiacs had left him, and now all Megatron felt was a craving for warmth and comforting touch, post-climatic haze descending over him like a thick fog.

Optimus appeared the same- if the lazy nuzzles and kisses he was laying across Megatron's jaw were any indication of things.

This was going to get very awkward when they came to their senses...

While they were kissing, and quite possibly gearing up for a round two -choosing to ignore that they wouldn't quite be able to blame an aphrodisiac that was no longer in their system as the cause- the large one-way mirror in the room began to turn into the window it secretly was, revealing the small group of ink-eyed aliens on the other side.

Optimus froze with his tongue in Megatron's mouth.

"_Congratulations Cybertronians_." The alien insect spoke through a speaker, it's voice sounding tinny and far away. "_With your help we have successfully completed our research and are happy to inform you that you are free to-"_

Megatron seized the empty cube from the table and threw it with all his might at the mirror-window. Upon impact it smashed in a satisfying burst of glass, making the aliens on the other side of the glass jump. The speaker abruptly offlined with a squeal and the window faded back to a mirror again.

Optimus looked stunned.

"One more for the road?" Megatron rolled his hips imploringly, desperate to pick up where they'd left off before they'd been so rudely interrupted. Please Primus, don't let this have broken the spell.

Optimus smiled a soft, endearing smile at him -not that those kind optics ever worked on _Megatron_, of course- and dipped down to continue their kiss, brushing their noses together. "Why just one?"

Megatron moaned into their renewed kiss, deciding to ignore the now conspicuous presence of alien voyeurs when a hard spike nudged his valve.

He wasn't foolish enough to disregard that a lot about what had happened today -was _continuing_ to happen- he would end up regretting, and not all for reasons he was ready to admit to himself.

But... at least they'd done their species proud.


End file.
